


Episkey

by dlmalfoys



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Harry Potter, Drarry, Healer Draco Malfoy, Healer Malfoy, Hogwarts, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Professor Harry, Professor Harry Potter, romione
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:21:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24198880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dlmalfoys/pseuds/dlmalfoys
Summary: That's how he'd ended up at Harry's door, at seven in the morning, distressed, with tears streaming down his pale cheeks. He stood at Harry's front door, gently knocking, as sobs escaped his lips, his long white hair pulled into an astonishingly messy bun, secured by his wand, still in his Healers uniform. Draco's greyish blue eyes were reddened and the bags under those eyes were dark, his cheeks splotchy from crying so hard. He didn't know how, or why, but he'd ended up here. "Harry?"
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Drarry - Relationship, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 30





	Episkey

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco went on to become a world-famous healer; the best of his generation. He travelled the world, aiding in hospitals and teaching lectures in schools, having just returned from Beauxbatons. Harry, he'd gone on to become a professor, teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. He and Draco had stayed in touch, all those years, they'd become friends; they found themselves able to relate and greatly help each other. They had become each other's shoulder to cry on, a friend in a time of need. They started sending more owls, longer letters, they found forgiveness and hope in one another.  
Draco had barely been back in London an hour when he was paged into St.Mungo's hospital. Christmas break had just begun and all the information he had upon arriving was that it was an emergency and a young boy. He hadn't expected to see a boy so young, just turned six. He'd been mangled by a werewolf seeking revenge, after a nasty inquiry from the ministry. The boy's father worked in the ministry, had been the one to request the inquiry. It was cruel, ruthless, they had their top healers trying their hardest deep into the night and morning for the boy - he passed away, early hours of the morning. Draco had only ever failed three patients before, in his whole career, now four. He was distraught, exhausted, heartbroken.  
That's how he'd ended up at Harry's door, at seven in the morning, distressed, with tears streaming down his pale cheeks. He stood at Harry's front door, gently knocking, as sobs escaped his lips, his long white hair pulled into an astonishingly messy bun, secured by his wand, still in his Healers uniform. Draco's greyish blue eyes were reddened and the bags under those eyes were dark, his cheeks splotchy from crying so hard. He didn't know how, or why, but he'd ended up here. "Harry?"

After so many decades of despising one another, he and Draco's newfound friendliness had become a rather interesting change of pace. Harry was taken aback in the beginning; not particularly reluctant, but rather just confused, even a little worried about whether or not Malfoy had returned from the war with a head injury he was oblivious to, causing such a swift turnaround - but much to his surprise, their close relationship had been easier to adapt to, and Harry didn't mind the new person that Draco had become in time.  
He, himself, with Hogwarts still considered home, had come to love his job. He was offered a part of the Ministry, thanks to Hermione's kindness, but he'd declined; the school needed a reliable Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and Harry felt that he'd been ready to step into the role, perhaps born for it once the war was concluded. Things had been going steadily - until seven, the following morning.  
He was still working off the fatigue from the night before, his brunette hair a familiar mess, glasses crooked on his nose with a coffee and this morning's Daily Prophet in hand when he opened the door. The drowsiness immediately fled from his eyes as he blinked and realized right off who it was, scrambling to place all he was holding aside and eying the blonde with a hint of shock. "Draco," he said, clearing his throat, his expression sinking as he studied him more. "Come in, come in - Merlin, what's happened to you? You look dreadful." Harry murmured quickly, stepping aside to allow him in.

Draco was relieved when the door swung open, and there was that familiar face, albeit a little older now, they both were. Draco liked to pretend he looked like he hadn't aged a day of course. He couldn't get out any words as he was ushered in, kindly, by Harry. Draco was quick to move out of the harsh, bitter wind and into the warm apartment that Harry seemed to call home. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't know where to go. I couldn't go home." Draco whispered out, quickly trying to wipe at his tears but he just couldn't stop them from rushing down his cheeks, "I failed Harry, I failed so bad. I couldn't save him..." He quietly choked out a heartbreaking sob, breaking down, he didn't know why he went to Potter's, but here he was.

Harry had seen this before - rarely, very rare, but never this intensely. Draco was good about being able to cut off certain stems of emotion, but things like this had gotten to him. He'd softened over the years, and Harry had made sure to keep him at a close distance if ever something like this happened. Harry, albeit tired before, had startled fully awake when he heard the sobs choke in the blonde's throat - to see him so shattered was torture. "It wasn't your fault, Draco. Come here." He said calmly, quietly, and pulled the other man into his arms as though he were a frightened animal, using their opposing heights to cradle the back of Draco's head in his hand and hold him to his shoulder. "It's alright. You did your best, you can't expect to save everyone, trust me. You just can't. It's alright." Harry pulled back after a few long moments, just enough to wipe any stray tears away from Draco's face with his thumbs, a gentle touch holding his face in his hands. "Look at me. It's okay."

Usually, the blond would have rejected any sort of physical comforting, he'd have reeled back in horror, not this time though. This time, he was quick to wrap his arms around Harry's waist as he buried in close, breaking down in the taller man's arms, sobbing, just crying it all out. "They say I'm the best, I should be able to save them all Harry, I should, I need to be better, I'm not good enough! He was six Harry! He was so small, so scared - you should've heard his screams. I won't be able to sleep for days. Harry, I- It was terrible..." Draco cried he couldn't get that image out of his head, of that poor boy. The torture he'd have gone through, the agony. Draco wished he knew even half of the things he knew now when he was a kid. He'd have been such a different person. The Draco now wasn't even recognisable, he was so different. He felt so different, after the war, nobody had been the same.

If it were a lighter situation, perhaps Harry wouldn't have had the instinct to pull him into an embrace - physical comfort wasn't quite their approach - but for once, Harry could feel that he needed it, and held him unimaginably tight. "No, no-no. You're letting their expectations get to you, Draco. Don't. You can't save everyone, not everyone can be saved. You did what you could and that was enough." Harry assured quietly, his heart sinking at every sob against his shoulder, his mind a whirl of imagining what Draco had been put through. He was different, but these expectations people put on him - To be the best, to be better - it was agony at times, and it made Harry empathetic. He knew exactly what that was like, having been experiencing it his whole life. "You're not going anywhere. Take a few days off, sleep here for a few nights. It'll be alright." He couldn't promise a wonderful recovery after seeing something like that - a six-year-old boy, and the thought made Harry wince - but at the very least, he'd provide as much comfort to Draco as he could. He'd let him rest.

"I can't just take time off Harry, they need me, most healers there can't do half of what I can! I can't just take days off from this sort of job. I have to be on call, ready, all the bloody time." Draco sighed, not angry with Harry, with himself for even needing a break, "but please, can I stay? I promise I'm not going to cause any trouble, you know that's not me, right? I just, I can't go home, to that empty flat-" He whimpered quietly. While he couldn't take time off work, he could take Harry's over to stay a few nights, he didn't think he could take the nightmares he knew were to follow along, he couldn't believe he was admitting this - but he needed Harry, he did. Gently, Draco pulled back to wipe his eyes, letting go of Harry, glancing back up to him, "I'm so sorry, I turned up such a mess. I didn't know where I was going, I just- ended up here..." He whispered, but deep down, it had felt right, going to Harry at his lowest point. It was as if they'd never been rivals. Harry just understood him, like nobody else could.

Harry frowned in the slightest, - God, he didn't have much time to himself, even after things like this - but went quiet as he thought things over, adjusting his glasses on his nose as Draco pulled back. "You can stay, it's not a problem. It'll be good to have some company. I make a bloody good breakfast --" he paused, and smiled apologetically, "Sorry, I - thought I should try and lighten the moment a bit. But really, I don't mind. It's not easy to see something like that. Don't get too stressed about it, yeah? You've saved so many, Draco. You can't let this single mistake destroy you." Despite their previous rivalry, he feels genuinely endeared by the fact that of all people, Malfoy had come to him for comfort - as if Harry was any good at giving it, but he certainly tried. It's a mutual understanding, to an extent, and Harry meets his eyes with a gentle sigh.

Draco let out a soft laugh, "yeah? I can't cook to save my life, not because of how I grew up before you even start on that - because I live on pasta pots and sandwiches from the canteen in the hospital. I landed in London about eleven last night and was paged straight to the hospital the moment I got home, so I haven't bloody slept. Probably not helping the emotions." He mumbled out softly, "I wasn't on holiday before you ask. Was giving lectures at Beauxbatons. They teach healing classes, Hogwarts really should get on that." He rambled on, just talking, as if he stopped, he'd be alone again, with his mind. He just couldn't take his thoughts right now. He fell silent though, so instead, he moved to wrap his arms back around Harry's waist without much warning, hugging the taller man again, at least his tears had ceased now, he was starting to finally calm down - although, now the exhaustion was settling in. He still couldn't say why he was finding so much comfort in Harry, with Harry - it didn't feel wrong though, at all, actually, it felt right. Like this is where he was supposed to be, in Harry's arms.

Harry took a long intake of breath, smiling softly at Draco's rambles. He was surprised at how easily they got along, and maybe he preferred it over the childish arguments they had when they were young and the world was only as big as a castle surrounded by sea and forest. "They don't let you go, do they? Eleven, Merlin's beard. You should rest soon." he added, and laughed lightly at the following comment. "I'll talk with McGonagall about it. She'd probably let you teach a class or two with enough convincing - -" Although Harry had meant to continue, he was cut off when the slightly shorter blonde had moved to lean on him, his arms fastened around his waist. He fit there quite nicely, though Harry didn't feel the need to voice it, simply returning the hold with his arms moving around his back, his torso, allowing them a moment they both needed - as well as one that felt right.

Draco even let a small smile toy at his lips, able to hide it though as he hid his face in Harry's shoulder, keeping the Hogwart's professor close, letting the silence between them settle just for a moment. "I'd like that, to come back to Hogwarts, just for a day, see what it's like. Show the teachers I'm not that little kid anymore. They all thought I was a lost cause, I did too honestly. I- I guess it took me losing my family to realise I was allowed to take my own path now, I fell in love with the art of healing, and helping people, addicted perhaps. I just would love to show people that I've changed, I hate who I used to be. Kills me thinking that some people still see that child when they think of me if that makes any sense..." Draco continued to ramble on and on, unable to stop himself when he started, he just needed to talk away from the negative thoughts, honestly. "Bet you could use me on standby in your classes, remembering what we were like in those classes. Nightmares, don't know how you're doing it." Draco mumbled out softly, smiling softly. "I'll shut up now, just, please tell me you have coffee." He added on quietly, he didn't know what was wrong with him - no, he did. He was lonely. It was horribly lonely, being Draco Malfoy, he had nobody. So, he cherished Harry, in ways he'd never dare admit.

Harry could hold him like this for as long as possible if he were allowed, though preferably not standing in the middle of his kitchen - It was nice, terribly nice, to keep someone close and feel needed for something besides being the one to defeat Voldemort. Perhaps it was lonely, too, being Harry Potter. Especially older, with less of a purpose. "You grew up nothing like Lucius. It's a good thing. I feared that you would've, but everyone would change their view of the Malfoy name if they saw you the way you are now." Harry murmured, feeding into his ramblings, even if it was just to let him know he acknowledged them and was listening throughout. "Could definitely use a standby, students are always screwing up spells, getting themselves hurt. The hospital wing is always open, of course, but Madam Pomfrey is often too busy with Quidditch victims to pay attention to smaller things. God knows I couldn't cast an Episkey to save my life." Harry laughed gently and then nodded, pausing a moment to pull back and meet Draco's gaze before he separated from him, a cup of coffee being poured directly from the pot into a mug with effortless magic. "Coffee, tea, the like. There's some bread left if you want any toast. If you get tired, you can use my bed, it's freshly made. The guest room is being made into an office, so the mattress was removed, and the couch is far too uncomfortable. Make yourself at home." Harry smiled again, leaning against one of the kitchen countertops and holding his own cup of coffee in his hands, taking a sip.

"Maybe, if you can convince McGonagall to let me teach a few lectures, maybe I can try and show them all the Malfoy name did not die with my father's disgusting reputation, I want to change it, I need to. I just, I can't keep running from my past anymore, I need to accept it, I just, need that second chance. I don't know why you were so willing to give me it but I really cannot thank you enough." Draco whispered, "I'd love to come and stand in your lectures, I'd love to see you teach. It would be so lovely. I bet you're amazing with the kids, you've always been a natural at all things teaching." Draco mumbled with a smile as he moved to take the other mug of coffee, "thank you, so much. I'm not going to take your bed, Harry. I'm fine with the couch, honestly." He promised, he hated coming in and imposing like this. Harry never failed to make him feel anything less than welcome though, of course. "Any plans, for Christmas?" Draco asked quietly, "I managed to get the day shift at the hospital, hate Christmas." Draco sighed, it was a lie, he was just horribly lonely. He had no friends, no family. Harry was truly all he had.

Draco was surprisingly quiet, even slightly timid. Harry studied him closely, his voice soft, his grey eyes still glossed over with the aftermath of previous tears. "It's -... Don't thank me, really." Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair, pushing it back into place. "We all turned out a little differently after everything. It's best to move on, to leave the past where it is. You've proved how much you've grown, Draco, and I should thank you for that, even all those years ago when you kept me from being recognized in the manor." Harry assured softly and withheld a sheepish grin at the following comment. "The kids are too sweet if I'm honest. They look up to me. I take a lot of pride in being a bit of a role model for them, telling them about Dumbledore, amongst other stories. They're very eager. I have strong faith that they'll be just fine." He said, though his voice was unwavering. He loved his students, possibly more than anything, treated all of them with equal respect and a kindness he never often received while in school. The thought made him soften, a warmth blooming at the chest. "No, no. It's nothing, don't worry. A guest comes first. As for Christmas, well - I hadn't many plans. Hermione and Ron are working, but I promised them I'd drop off something for them, maybe stop in and say hello. Otherwise, I usually stay home for the holidays, just... - letting things run their course." At that, the professor frowned a bit, his expression falling as he turned his gaze to the ground. Christmas was always great when he was young, at Hogwarts, away from the Dursley's. Though, now, it was bleak. Less special.

Draco nodded his head, as he listened to Harry, "if you- uh, find yourself- I'll be home during the night, or on Christmas eve, if you wanted some company- or something," Draco struggled to form basic words, feeling a little bit foolish if he were being honest, why on earth would Harry want to spend any part of the Christmas holidays with him? He was sure the professor had much better things to be doing with his time, Draco knew it was stupid, but the offer was there, regardless. "I'd love to see one of your classes sometime, I bet you're the best teacher Hogwarts has ever had, you know?" Draco whispered softly, offering Harry a gentle smile, "I'm still not taking the bed, I'll take the couch. Bloody small enough. Don't see how you managed a growth spurt like that, honestly, thought I was at least taller than somebody. Of course not," he teased with a small smile, as he finished his mug off coffee and moved to immediately wash his cup and set it on the side, only just now pulling down his long, white hair, it would've looked like his fathers if it hadn't been for the way he ran a hand through it and messed it up a little, he didn't have a neat and particular parting like his father always had, his hair was messier, wavy, it was pretty, even if Draco would disagree with that statement.

Harry looked up after a few moments of thinking to himself, brows raised in curiosity as he slowly pieced Draco's words together. He was offering his company, which tugged the professor's smile back on his features as soon as he realized. "I'd love company," he answered softly, trying not to pinpoint the insecurity that carefully laced itself in Draco's words. "We can spend it inside, I could make something special - Or, you know, we could go for a nice walk in the snow. There's this beautiful pond not too far from here, though it is a bit icy. Ah, no need to get caught in the details," he rambled, adjusting his glasses again and laughing quietly, an amusement at his own tendency to put everything in a neat little box. Though, Draco's compliment makes him scoff with disbelief, waving his hand dismissively. "You're too kind. I'm just another professor, not unlike any of the others. Neville is quite good at Herbology, himself, he's one of the best colleagues I've had. You'd be shocked to see how good he looks these days - - and it's only fair I'm taller now, isn't it? You always had the upper hand when we were young. I think I get the height from my father." Harry returned his smile, his coffee only half-gone with the distraction of conversation, though his gaze lingered to watch Draco let his hair down - in similar colour and thickness to his father's, but different. It fell nicely. Harry realized he'd never quite seen him with it this close. "It's handsome," he said without thought after an instant or two, clearing his throat. "Your hair, I mean. Always expected you to keep the more refined look as you got older." He smiled warmly, perhaps just wanting to keep the conversation going, having enjoyed talking to him this whole time.

"Wait- you would?" Draco asked, a little caught off guard, he had not expected Harry to be all down for it, to want to spend some of the holidays with him. "Yeah, we could do both, maybe? That all sounds really really lovely." Draco nodded quickly, finding himself suddenly a little more excited about Christmas now, his heart felt like it had skipped a few beats, he could feel those bubbles of excitement brewing, it was a strange, foreign feeling. "I can't imagine him looking better than you, Harry. Yeah? I didn't think you were going to grow, I think I stopped growing during school, you, however-" He laughed softly, looking up to Harry for emphasis, with this cheeky grin, that nobody had ever seen him wear before. Draco's cheeks flushed at the gentle compliment, as he ruffled his long white waves a little, running a hand through it to try and comb it down a little, he'd had it up for hours now, it was so nice to finally let his hair down. "Yeah? I mean, I always expected you to stay short," Draco teased back softly, "I guess at first I just didn't have the time, to keep on top of cutting it, as work got busy. I think in the end I just gave in and let it grow out." He hummed softly, but he couldn't really pinpoint when he'd stopped caring for that refined, posh, pristine exterior. He just, was himself, these days. "Your hair's nice too. Have got some curls going on there?" He laughed out as he looked closer, "it's longer. I like it." The healer settled for, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand, before rubbing his hands over his face, "sorry, sorry. It's not you, just, don't remember the last time I slept." Draco mumbled out, looking down for just a moment, "thank you again, Harry. Wonder what our twelve-year-old selves would say if they saw us now huh?" He quietly joked, also not wanting their conversation to come to a close, he wasn't ready yet.


End file.
